


the man on the metro

by fkaps (orphan_account)



Series: lucases and eliotts no. 1 - infinity [4]
Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Love at First Sight, M/M, can someone PLEASE stop me, can someone stop me.....
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-03-14 18:43:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18953569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/fkaps
Summary: He sees the man every early morning when he rushes to work and every late evening when he heads back home. Until one day he doesn't, and the next day the man takes the seat next to his.the love at first sight silent commute partners AU





	1. prologue

He sees the man every early morning when he's rushing to catch the train. 

Lucas had never been good at being on time, a habit he retained from his days in lycée, where skipping class with Yann to get high or lunch excursions to the neighbourhood kebab shop took precedence over punctuality. Unfortunately, it was a habit that stuck, leaving him physically incapable of waking up at a respectable time that would let him arrive at work without his managing partner's disapproving glare following him all the way to his cubicle. With his sleeping schedule hindered by insomnia fueled nights, catching up on paperwork the partners laid on him during the day and stressing over his mom who recently moved to Lyon after getting the all clear from her doctor, his only saving grace was the 07:52 train giving him an adequate amount of sleep and kept him from getting fired.

Then again maybe there was a reason for all of it. 

If Lucas didn't take his specific train at that particular time, he never would have met him. Or at least, have the ability to imagine meeting him. Him, Mr. Dreamy Blue Eyes, Mr. Woke Up Like This Glorious Hair, and so the list went on, a variety of half-assed names Lucas gave the mystery guy on the train in absence of his actual one.

Every morning Lucas would run onto the train seconds before the door closed, thermos threatening to spill and tie just a tiny bit crooked. He'd search for a seat to no avail, giving up and grabbing onto a pole far enough from the doors to prevent blocking the way for incoming passengers but close enough to not get lost in the throng of people pushing to get out at his stop. Fifteen minutes from the station to downtown, a five minute walk, two and a half if he ran, to the high rise where his office was located, and all but forty five seconds to reach the twentieth floor, where he would spend another eight hours (if he was lucky, which he usually wasn't) getting chewed out by higher ups and regretting his life choices.

It was a routine he was well accustomed to, no anomalies, the mundanity transitioning from mind numbingly exhausting to comforting. Lucas wasn't sure what was more scary, knowing that Lucas five years ago would have been disappointed in him, or that the present day Lucas simply didn't care.

Until him.

Now, Lucas kept his eyes peeled for the telling mop of auburn hair, the composed but casual slacks, often times swapped for well fitting black denim, and dress shirt combination that contrasted starkly with Lucas's own suits in shades of charcoals and navy blues. He would always be seated, sandwiched between two other commuters Lucas was only slightly embarrassed to admit that he wished he was one of, sometimes rapidly typing away at his laptop, other times immersed in a novel. The sole of his foot or the nod of his head moved in conjunction with the beat of whatever music poured out of his headphones, rendering him unaware of his surroundings and consequently of Lucas as well.

If he was brave, Lucas might have found the courage to approach him, mumble a hello, and pray that a conversation would ensue. 

However, Lucas is decidedly not brave.

Instead he settles. Lucas settles for situating himself near a pole directly opposite or at least in close proximity of the guy. He abandons actual dialogue for indirect peeks at the man's computer screen through the train windows when he is angled just right, usually chancing upon paragraphs of code and clusters of data visualized with graphics. Lucas gives what he likes to think are subtle glances out of the corner of his eyes, awaiting the man's departure so that he can breathe easy again.

Like everything else in his life, Lucas settles. And for awhile, he's content with that. He's content, until the day he's not.

The man gets off the train as usual, two stops prior to his own, except this time he glances back. Lucas, who was already tracing the guy's movements out of his peripheral, looks straight at him, curious as to what caused the man to pause before stepping outside. Instead of seeing wandering eyes and hurried motions to leave, Lucas is staring at the face of someone staring right back at him. 

Time stills. He knows realistically that the duration between the doors closing and opening is no longer than thirty seconds, but the sheer intensity of the man's stare, the way his gaze rakes him from head to toe unashamedly, and the smirk he flashes at him right as he gets off the train makes it feels like the moment could have lasted forever. 

Lucas snaps out of it eventually, his playlist jumping to the next song and blaring The Clash on full blast. He diverts his attention to his phone, scrolling through unread emails he neglected last night in favour of binge watching Netflix and ignoring numerous other responsibilities. As he disembarks the train and brisk walks the distance from the station to the office, he banishes thoughts of the man from his mind. He opts instead to fill it with orders from the partner assigned to his latest project, mindless chatter during his lunch break with colleagues and the voice at the back of his head nagging him about contacting the landlord to fix the leaky kitchen faucet at home.

It isn't until nightfall, when Lucas is slouched in bed, laptop balancing on a pillow alongside a cup of coffee he nurses in his grasp, that he allows himself to think about the man again. TV droning and dishes from multiple days lying unwashed in the sink, he forces himself to focus on the task at hand. A spreadsheet dictating figures related to the firms' largest client to date lies open at one corner of the split screen, the other half dominated by the forum Lucas almost always browsed whenever he ought to have been doing something far more important. 

Lucas had seen posts made by other people, seeking advice from anonymous users about everything from hairdresser recommendations to straight up therapy. And while it was amusing, watching random strangers work out their problems online and either fail miserably or recount their unexpected success with an update, the possibility of actually using the forum for himself had never occurred to him. To him, it reeked of desperation, especially since it's not like he was lacking in an abundance of friends to reach out to. From Yann to Imane, hell even Basille came in handy when it had to do with matters of the heart.

Then again, it's not like Lucas didn't know what they would say. Yann would tell him it was potentially dangerous, Imane's disapproval was imminent and she would just pester Lucas about setting him up with one of her friends again, and Baz, with his pure intentions but naive outlook, would simply tell him to go for it. 

Varying words from three very different individuals, all of which Lucas wouldn't hesitate to dismiss, even if it was all hypothetical at this point. 

Maybe a fresh perspective would do him good. Or a couple dozen fresh perspectives. The forum had posts that attracted hundreds of hits on average, some of the higher ranked ones ranging in the early thousands. Surely it wouldn't be hard to attain even a fraction of that attention?

He taps his fingertips on the keyboard impatiently, thrumming along with the theme song from the Fort Boyard episode playing in the background.

 _So dumb_ , he thinks to himself, _so,_ fucking,  _dumb_. 

But, still. Lucas types, erases, mentally reprimands himself, retypes, and finally submits. One post, one question, encompassing a breadth of feelings, possibilities and shortcomings he could no longer avoid acknowledging.

 

 

[+1 -0] posted by i'mnotinlove just now

_how do i get the guy i commute with to notice me?_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this au is something i've been toying with. the basic story is that Lucas, at a loss for how to approach eliott, is going to seek out the advice of random strangers on the internet  
> sound familiar? probably because it is! the premise is from a reportedly [true story.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Densha_Otoko)
> 
> i know what lucas and eliott's careers are in this universe, but they will reveal themselves in due course :) 
> 
> and yes eliott technically has noticed lucas and for lucas's post to make sense you will have to stick around hahah
> 
> i'm so thankful for any and all feedback (good or bad, be brutal) but i also want to thank all my silent readers too. i will always appreciate that you take the time to read what i put out there!


	2. how do i get the guy i commute with to notice me?

[+42 -7] posted by i'mnotinlove 5 hours ago  
_how do i get the guy i commute with to notice me?_

so there's this guy that takes the metro with me on my way to work. if angels existed on earth this man would be it, no joke.   
today, after god knows how many weeks, he finally acknowledged me but it was only right before he left the train. my question is: how the fuck am i supposed to go about approaching him? believe me when i say this guy is so out of my league i might as well give up now

 

[+18 -2] posted by eessac 5 hours ago  
this question has been answered only 50 billion other times here, next time going through past answers might be in your best interests :)

> [+20 -1] posted by tinytino 5 hours ago  
>  cmon the girl's clearly in distress let her be, don't act like you've never been in a situation like this before
>
>> [+21 -8] posted by i'mnotinlove 3 hours ago  
>  i'm a guy
>>
>>> [+18 -0] posted by eessac 3 hours ago  
>  things just got interesting
>>
>>> [+15 -2] posted by keyris 2 hours ago  
>  the dislikes on this reply are homophobic
>>> 
>>>  

[+22 -3] posted by davidindetroit 4 hours ago  
please elaborate on your definition of 'acknowledgement' 

> [+10 -8] posted by imnotinlove 3 hours ago  
>  he gave me a once over and smiled before getting off
>
>> [+24 -2] posted by heyhayitsshay  
>  hE gAvE mE a OnCe OvEr blah blah blah are you serious??? the guy was highkey flirting and your post is clickbait... didn't notice me my ass, are you trying to brag right now

 

[+33 -10] posted by neimatteo 4 hours ago  
my ~~girl~~ guy, life isn't a nora ephron movie, he could be a serial killer for all you know  
_edited 2 hours ago_

 

[+29 -7] posted by evanwithane 5 hours ago  
have you tried talking to him

> [+13 -1] posted by joananana 5 hours ago  
>  take my upvote and my endorsement 
> 
> [+10 -4] posted by imnotinlove 3 hours ago  
>  how can i do that when i'm incapable of being coherent around him
>
>> [+24 -2] posted by evanwithane an hour ago  
>  ok here's what you do:  
>  1\. try to get as close to him as possible without seeming stalker-y  
>  2\. drop something in his vicinity and make a big show about picking it up  
>  3\. or, even better ask him for something like tissues and when he offers take them all and act like it's the most normal thing in the world if he looks confused (which he will)   
>  4\. all else fails, be straightforward and just go for it, if he's a creep at least there's people around you 
>> 
>>  

[+5 -1] posted by hellomynameisNICO  
Following

 

Lucas scrolled through the responses on his post, mildly surprised at how easily it gained traction. While the top voted comment was a bit uncalled for, the person who wrote it kind of had a point. It's not like his was the first post inquiring for advice on how to approach an attractive stranger, maybe it would have done him some good to do his own research before impulsively posing his query online for the whole world to see.

He knows it's stupid, especially considering his generic wording and the anonymity of the forum. There was no way train guy would recognize who he was from the post, if he even frequented the website to begin with. But there was something about the physical post that made it all feel so much more real. A small crush that he kept to himself was now public information, regardless of whether the people who knew about it knew who he was or not. 

Out of all the advice offered, evanwithane's had the most detailed, albeit the most direct, to say the least. He wasn't brave enough to do something as blatant as the tissue maneuver, but he was sure, despite all his hopelessness, that he could muster prompting a conversation.

With the words of the forum users ringing sharply in his mind, some dissuading and others persuading, he approaches his morning commute strengthened by the guidance from internet strangers he trusted more than his actual friends.

Yann would have been so pissed at not being the first one he asked. Imane would pretend not to care while obviously disgruntled by her matchmaking attempts forgone in favour of whatever you could call what Lucas was about to do.

It was for the best, he reassured himself. When things came crashing down, like they usually did for him, no one in real life would have to know. As he gets up on Monday, ready to take on the corporate world that awaits him after two days of endless work, procrastination, and less sleep than he could have used, it's the reassurance that gets him on the train and inevitably catching sight of the man, sitting in a row of two seats occupied by solely himself.

It might as well have been a sign from the universe, giving him two thumbs up and a kick in the ass to go for it.

Lucas inhales sharply, pushing forward. Away from the pole situated besides the exit, his usual spot of choice, towards the rarely empty seat beside the man subject to his affections.  

He sits down, the man briefly acknowledging him with the smallest hint of surprise lacing his features. It's in the way his eyes widen slightly, how his body stiffens when Lucas's hand brushes his, movements that would have gone by unnoticed if Lucas wasn't so attuned to the guy's interactions with the rest of the world. He flashes a quick smile, immediately resuming typing a storm on his laptop, foot tapping away at what Lucas presumed was the song blaring from his headphones.

From an outsider's perspective, it was mere seconds. But for Lucas, it was enough time and enough of a reaction to propel him forward beyond the comfort of his silence in hope of something more.

"Hi." Lucas manages to stutter out, not exactly oozing confidence.

No response.

He almost gives up, embarrassed at being ignored, before realizing it's probably because the man's ears are clearly occupied and Lucas isn't particularly projecting his voice. He raises his hand, wavering and subsequently steeling himself, tapping gently on the man's shoulder.

The man looks away from his screen, startled at the contact. He removes his headphones, staring at Lucas curiously. Lucas can't do anything but look back, even as the stare transitions from inquisitive to awkward, and the guy begins to shift uncomfortably. 

Right. He was the one who started this. 

_Here goes nothing._

"Hi." Lucas says, causing the other passenger to laugh as he shuts the screen of his device, giving Lucas his full attention.

"Hi."

 _Shit._ He didn't really think through any ensuing conversation beyond initial greetings.

"Uh-" Lucas starts, less than intelligently, "Hey."

"You said that already." 

"Right," he cringes, "My bad."

"So-"

"I'm Lucas!" he interrupts, cursing himself internally for the abruptness.

"Right," Eliott says, dragging out the last syllable a beat too long, "Nice to meet you Lucas."

"And you?" Lucas asks, desperate to divert the attention back to the other man.

"Eliott." 

"So," Lucas starts after a beat of silence, "You come here often?" he jokes lamely. It seems to work though, because it causes Eliott to chuckle, and not just for the sake of being polite.

"Only everyday." 

"I've noticed." 

Crap. _Was that too obvious?_  

"Really?"

 _What the hell._ It's not like he can take it back now. Might as well run with it.

"Yeah," Lucas admits, "Yeah, I have."

"Huh," Eliott says, "You get straight to the point don't you?"

"I'm sorry," Lucas apologizes, "I didn'-"

"Don't be," Eliott replies reassuringly, "I like people who are forward with their advances." he says with a wink.

"Haha," Lucas mutters sarcastically, unable to prevent himself from referencing Eliott's last interaction with him, "I guess that explains the blatant checking out I was subject to last week."

"You saw that?"

"Like I said," Lucas says, "I've noticed."

"I was hoping you would."

He had no idea where this confidence was coming from, but he thanked whatever higher power that was allowing him to get through this conversation, his sense of dignity still intact for the most part. Lucas was flirting, actually flirting, with the guy he had been pining over for god knows how long, and the only thing more shocking than that was the fact that Eliott was flirting right back.

"So," Lucas says, changing the topic at hand, desperate to prevent the blush threatening to erupt on his cheeks, "What are you working on?"

"Overdue project," Eliott responds, suddenly tensing at the reminder of the work he had in his hands, "Boss was up my ass about getting it done in time for the deadline, and now the only reason I'm not fired is because I'm the only one who can finish it off."

"Good strategy," Lucas offers, "Securing your position like that I mean."

"Can you call it a strategy if it just kind of happened?"

"Now you're just bragging."

"C'mon," Eliott says, "I'm sure you're an integral part of wherever you're working." he continues, gesturing at Lucas's outfit.

"Just another replaceable drone trying to work his way up," Lucas snorts, "The suit merely reinforces my job description as a glorified ass kisser."

"Aren't you a little young to be so disillusioned?"

"Should've met me fresh out of university," Lucas states seriously, "Definitely more bright eyed than what you see in front of you right now."

"I wish I did."

There it was again. It was unfair, how it only took a sentence from Eliott to completely undo him.

"Where do you work anyway?" Lucas asks, "If that's not too forward for you."

"Valid question," Eliott replies grinning, opening his laptop to a window displaying a flashy logo for what appeared to be a food service application, "20th floor, the building opposite the large fountain. I'm one of the head software engineers, occasional graphic designer."

"Nice," Lucas says genuinely, "Can I ask what you're working on? Or does that infringe on some client-employee confidentiality agreement?"

"Lawyer?" Eliott guesses, receiving a quick shake of the head from Lucas negating the proposition.

"Nope, even more glamourous," he says, "Accountant."

"You don't strike me as the accountant type." 

"I don't strike myself as the accountant type," Lucas agrees, "But that's besides the point," he says tilting his head at the screen.

"Oh, yeah," Eliott says, pointing at the image displayed, "This app is supposed to take a list or picture of ingredients available to the user and provide them with recipes they can make, allowing them to avoid doing their groceries for as long as possible."

"Could have used that back in school," Lucas replies awed, "But don't people hire you to make money? How is this profitable?"

"Never mind," Eliott says cheekily, "Clearly you were meant to be an accountant."

Lucas gives him a playful shove, laughing at the quip.

"The database is sourced from the internet," Eliott goes on, "There's ad revenue as well, plus people willing to pay a premium for their content to be referenced first." 

"I see." 

And Lucas did. Sort of at least. It wasn't what Eliott was saying that made him want to indulge the other man so much as it was the passion that overcame him as he rambled about his work, eyes sparkling as he explained. It was endearing, bringing out a side in the man that previously seemed so aloof and intimidating to Lucas until that point.

The subway chimes, an automated voice overhead indicating the next stop. 

"This one's mine."

Lucas barely holds back the 'I know' clumsily escaping from his mouth, instead saying,

"See you tomorrow?" Lucas blurts out. Eliott glances at him as he packs up his computer and shoves his headphones in the zipper compartment of the black laptop bag placed on the floor in front of him.

"It's a date."

 _Wait,_ Lucas reels, _what the fuck?_

"What?"

"Just kidding," Eliott says easily, adjusting the strap on his bag as he stands up, stating confidently, "When I ask you out, you'll know it." 

 _When,_ Lucas thinks, brain incapable of processing Eliott's words beyond that, _when, not if._

"Bye Lucas," he bids, raising a two fingered salute, "I'll see you later."

 

Lucas walks to the metro the next day with a spring in his step, uncharacteristic of an early Tuesday morning commute. He scans the car upon entrance, eagerly seeking out Eliott's telling mess of auburn hair and headphones. 

Except he's not there.

He's not there on Wednesday. Or Thursday.

By Friday, Lucas has all but given up.

And then he remembers.

_The forum._

This time, with less hesitation than the first, he posts again, under the same pseudonym. 

_evanwithane, please save me._

 

[+1 -0] posted by imnotinlove a few seconds ago 

_does he hate me?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyone still here? hahah  
> edit due for when i wake up. happy june everyone!


	3. does he hate me?

[+115 -22] posted by i'mnotinlove 9 hours ago  
_does he hate me?_

i talked to the guy!

not a serial killer or a creep. it went better than i could ever have imagined (thank you evanwithane)

he was everything i thought he would be, funny, clever, flirty, not to mention drop dead gorgeous (which i didn't have to engage in conversation with him to know but anyway)

so here's the issue.

after we talked he flat out disappeared. as in i haven't seen this guy since last week monday and it is now very early sunday and i go back to work, therefore back on the train where i usually see him, tomorrow.

i don't have his number, or even his freaking last name. all i know is the building he works in and the stop he gets off at on the metro

did our conversation turn him off that badly? was a couple minutes all it took for him to avoid any interaction whatsoever completely?? this guy has been taking the same train at the same time as me for as long as i can remember so i can't think of any other reason besides talking to me that made him stop

 

[+74 -11] posted by joananana 8 hours ago  
there are a billion reasons this guy didn't show up and him thinking you're a freak is only one of them. think rationally and don't give up so fast! the hard part is over, you did your piece, the ball's in his court now  

> > [+23 -1] posted by i'mnotinlove 3 hours ago  
>  but how can i just sit back and do nothing?
>>
>>> [+48 -2] posted by keyris 3 hours ago  
>  you can and you will
>>>
>>>> [+11 -13] posted by i'mnotinlove 3 hours ago  
>  maybe i should stop by his workplace during my lunch break?
>>>>
>>>>> [+39 -1] posted by keyris an hour ago
>>>>> 
>>>>> [+21 -0] posted by neimatteo an hour ago  
>   
> 
>>>>> 
>>>>> [+14 -0] posted by eessac an hour ago
>>>>>
>>>>>> [+1 -0] posted by i'mnotinlove just now  
>  jeez alright 

[+59 -6] posted by evanwithane 7 hours ago  
i'm glad to hear! and trust me, it was all you. as for your current situation, i agree with joananana.  

> [+21 -3] posted by joananana 3 hours ago  
>  legends supporting legends 
> 
>  

[+44 -5] posted by neimatteo 4 hours ago  
this guy still seems a little sus to me. maybe cool it with the pining until you know his full name

> [+28 -2] posted by davidindetroit 3 hours ago  
>  damn that's cold, but also i agree. just be patient  
> 
> [+20 -1] posted by heyhayitsshay 2 hours ago  
>  agreed. but at the same time, like i said before, this guy definitely likes you. he's either a serial flirt (which is arguably worse than being a serial killer) or he is genuinely going through something right now
> 
>  

[+35 -7] posted by hellomynameisNICO 6 hours ago  
everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about. be kind always

> [+14 -2] posted by tinytino 3 hours ago  
>  cute, is that an original?
>
>> [+20 -3] posted by hellomynameisNICO 2 hours ago  
>  yup found it on google all by myself 
> 
>  

[+12 -24] posted by eessac 8 hours ago  
here we go again

> [+49 -2] posted by evanwithane 7 hours ago  
>  relax

 

 

Lucas hurriedly checked the forum on his phone, yanking a sock on his foot with one hand and scrolling down the web page with the other. After a mere three hours of sleep, prompted by procrastination and finalizing the details on the PowerPoint summarizing his latest project for the partners at the firm, he had approximately seventeen minutes until he missed the train that would prevent him from getting fired. Or at least, severely reprimanded. 

He cringed at the responses to his suggestion proposing he visit Eliott at work. Blaming it on 03:00 Lucas brain, he typed out a rushed reply assuring the rest of the users that he wouldn't go through with it. Maybe, he thought hopelessly, he wouldn't have to. There was a chance Eliott would finally show up today, and even if he didn't, he could just wait like everyone had advised. 

At least until Tuesday. 

Tying his shoelaces and stumbling for his keys, Lucas rushes out of his apartment onto the street, weaving past throngs of other commuters and all but running down the stairs inside the station. His phone buzzes while he bounces on his heels impatiently by the track, despite being underground. Balancing his briefcase precariously, he pulls it out from the pocket of his slacks to check the message, surprised to see Imane's name pop up onscreen.

 

**Imane**

The girls were asking about you

You're still coming tonight right?  
07:58

 

He groans audibly, frustrated. Imane had asked him weeks ago to come over for a housewarming party at her and Sofiane's new place. With her jam packed schedule, she planned it specifically so that it fell on a day where she had a two-day break from her residency at the hospital and Sofiane was able to leave work early. Lucas made a mental note a couple days after receiving his invite to pick up a toaster or whatever else people usually bought as a housewarming gift, knowing that upcoming deadlines at work would make purchasing something impossible closer to the date of.

That was then. Now, the party was tonight, he was toasterless, and quite frankly not in the mood to do anything past 19:00 beyond climbing into bed and passing out. 

There would be plenty of familiar faces, the girls, most of whom besides Imane he fell out of touch with after university, Imane's brother, who he had met once or twice after Imane and Sofiane got engaged, maybe Alex if Emma and him were on after their prolonged off period.

Whatever the circumstance, he wasn't in the mood to be surrounded by happy couples. Especially when he couldn't numb away his loneliness with alcohol, lest he show up in front of his biggest client till date the next morning hungover.

Then again, this was Imane. Saying no to her had never worked for Lucas in the past, and he doubted it would now, toaster or no toaster. He texted her back, hoping that it would go through before losing his last bar of cellular service.

 

**Imane**

I'll be there  
08:01

You want anything besides a toaster?  
08:02

Just you  
And your sparkling personality  
08:05

Maybe dessert  
08:07

 

Laughing at the request, Lucas pockets his phone, right when the telling screech of the train approaching echoed throughout the tunnel. He could stop by the bakery near the office and grab a cake on his way over, Lucas mused, climbing inside the subway car when the doors chimed open. As usual, it was packed, seats seldom empty during the morning rush hour. He resigns with a muted sigh, using his customary pole of choice for support to wait out the ride. Quickly scanning the car out of habit, he swears his eyes are playing tricks on him when his gaze fixates on the man occupying his thoughts for much longer than he cared to admit during the past week.

Eliott is sitting down at one of the dual seats, adjacent to the window glancing at the pitch black of the tunnel outside, laptop and headphones concealed within his bag, nowhere to be found. It's almost as if he was waiting for Lucas to make eye contact with him, staring at him unabashedly before Lucas even caught sight of the other man. Eliott smirks, just a little, and it's enough to set Lucas off.

Suddenly, he's inexplicably annoyed.

Following hours of pining and confusion on Lucas's part, Eliott acting as if nothing happened, as if he hadn't disappeared after effectively leaving Lucas hanging, makes him beyond irritated. And by the looks of it, Lucas is not as good at masking his emotions as he'd hoped, because the smirk vanishes from Eliott's face and is replaced with a look of concern faster than Lucas detects the former. 

The back and forth persists, Eliott desperately trying to catch Lucas's eye, Lucas avoiding his gaze like the plague. It takes three more stops, the steady inflow and outflow of commuters blocking and revealing the two to one another, and one final glance from Lucas that causes Eliott to break.

Frowning, the taller man stands up from his seat, towering over the middle aged woman sitting next to him who he apologizes to profusely while making his way to the aisle. Lucas tries to appear preoccupied, in his surroundings, his phone with no service, the etched markings on the pole he grasped onto, anything that didn't involve Eliott walking towards him. The air of indifference, his nonchalant behaviour, all amounts to nothing against Lucas's heart thudding inside his chest, in anticipation of something, anything, from the man who now stood beside him, holding on to the same pole, hand mere centimeters above his own.

"Hi." 

It comes out as a cautious whisper, more anxious than Lucas had expected given Eliott's initial confidence. "Hey." Lucas replies back, unable to continue fronting. Eliott let's out a breath at the response, visibly relieved, his signature grin finally resurfacing.

"So," he starts, "Good week ahead?"

"As good as it gets," Lucas says, retorting pointedly with, "Pretty much the same as last. Not that you would know."

"Right," Eliott mutters quietly, "Listen," he starts, propping his arm against the pole and leaning in, "I'm sorry for disappearing like that. I had some personal shit I was dealing with."

"You don't need to apologize Eliott," Lucas says coolly, "Shit happens."

"I know," Eliott replies, "But I don't want you making assumptions that aren't true," he says, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck, "To be honest I- well I was looking forward to seeing you the next day," he admits, "Until shit happened."

"Really?"

"Really," Eliott affirms, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards, "And to make up for it, I want to ask you out. In the least creepy way that a guy you just met can."

"So you can see why I'm a little apprehensive about accepting your invitation?"

"I'd be kind of surprised if you weren't." 

The voice overhead indicates the next stop, causing Eliott to straighten his posture and prepare to exit the train.

"I take the 18:04 train after work tonight," Eliott says, clutching the strap of his laptop bag strung on his shoulder nervously, "Will I see you there?"

"Tonight?" Lucas repeats, bewildered.

"Tonight."

"Depends on work," Lucas answers, not quite believing that he's agreeing to the ridiculous proposition, "You could just give me your number to coordinate, like normal people usually do."

"Let's leave it up to fate."

"That's a little strange, don't you think?"

"Maybe," Eliott continues, countering with, "What's so great about being normal anyway?"

"I guess."

"I mean," Eliott says, gesturing around them airily, "Does anything about this seem normal to you?"

"Not really," Lucas admits, "Everything's kind of strange with you. But," he trails, bravely tacking on, "I think I like strange."

"We," Eliott corrects him, "We like strange," he winks as he disembarks, "See you tonight then?" 

"Maybe." _Definitely_.

When Lucas steps outside the station, the sun is bright, crisp fall air biting through and waking him up the rest of the way, remnants of his morning grogginess fading with every step he takes. He squints through the walk, against the dim screen of his phone where he thumbs out a message, smiling to himself all the while.

 

**Imane**

Sorry can't make it tonight  
09:03

Not surprised  
Work?  
09:08

 

 

Lucas thinks for a second, hesitating before texting back a reply that he knew he would regret later.

 

 

**Imane**

Hot date  
Hahaha  
09:10

WHAT  
09:12

 _Missed call from Imane_  
09:13

Shit  
Sorry I forgot you're at work  
I want the whole story later  
09:14

 

* * *

_This guy definitely likes you._

_The ball's in his court now._

_Just be patient._

The evening train is relatively unoccupied, too late for peak rush hour, too early for typically overworked drones like him to be navigating their way home, a horde of identical zombies, tired and listless. He was mildly surprised when the manager heading the team on the client arriving the next day let him go before 21:00 so close to a deadline. But when he dismissed Lucas, praising the presentation he delivered in the afternoon and encouraging him to get sufficient rest prior to tomorrow, he wasn't about to resist. 

He contemplates over picking up a cake, in case Eliott was just messing with him during the morning commute, but decides against it. Something Basile said about inviting the universe to act against him with his tendency to be risk averse had annoyingly stuck and caused him to constantly think twice before taking any precautions, not unlike this time around. 

And he'd never, even with a gun to his head, admit it, but Basille may have had a point. Because, in spite of Lucas's misgivings, Eliott is sitting in the middle of what the former has dubbed their car, the second one after the head of the train, immediately visible upon entering. 

The smile Eliott gives, patting the seat beside him, a silent invitation, it's all the confirmation he needs. 

Lucas is so far gone he thinks, no, he knows, there's no point in lying to himself now.

"Well," Lucas says as he approaches the other man, "This is different," clarifying when he notices Eliott's puzzled expression, "Seeing you after 08:00, I mean." 

Eliott nods in understanding, grinning as he responds. "Hopefully you're not too disappointed?"

"Nah, night time's a good look on you. Besides," Lucas states, throwing in teasingly, "Everything looks the same inside a subway car."

Eliott laughs at the remark, shrugging his shoulders in acceptance, "Touché."

"Where are we headed?"

"Do you mind if we stop by my place first?" Eliott asks abruptly, "I just want to drop off my stuff." he supplements, motioning at his bag, noticing the discomfort on Lucas's face.

"We're getting back into creepy territory." Lucas remarks half jokingly. Eliott may have been everything the man of his dreams was made of, but he was still essentially a stranger.

"You won't even have to come upstairs," Eliott promises, "I'll be a minute, up and down. Back before you can think about escaping," he says with a knowing grin. 

"Not really helping your case."

"Two minutes, max."

"Take five," Lucas sighs, subconsciously knowing it was a dumb idea, "I'll wait for you."

The walk from the metro to Eliott's home is short. Short enough that Lucas doesn't even get the chance to worry over what he'll say or how to not look like a fool when he finds himself climbing the narrow stairway up to Eliott's place.

The hallway, unlike the stairs preceding it, is expansive, white light illuminating every few steps and faded but clean carpet laid on its floor. Eliott stops in front of the door labelled 204, sticky residue in the shape of the last digit signalling where the metal number had fallen out. Eliott unlocks it, proclaiming, "This is it," waving with a flourish at the interior, leading Lucas inside.

Removing his shoes at the threshold, Lucas scans the apartment, absorbing his surroundings, "Cute."

"Thanks." 

"I mean it," Lucas assures him, "Plus it's so close to the metro. I'm actually kind of jealous."

"Not a lot to be jealous of." Eliott comments, slinging off his coat and hanging it on the coat rack near the door. 

Lucas took a closer look, gauging the studio more analytically, registering that Eliott wasn't simply being humble. 

Beyond the sofa, which appeared to double as a bed given the pillow and blanket strewn haphazardly atop it, furnishings were sparse. A lone bar stool overlooked the kitchen. A large desk, littered with loose leaf papers and opened mail, was placed near the sliding door leading outside to a small balcony where the night sky was on full display. Beside it, a mismatched wooden end table hosting a record player looked like the only expensive item inside the house besides Eliott's laptop. Barren white walls encasing the space made it look open, but at the same time all the more empty. Almost sad. 

"Do you actually live here?"

"Uh-" Eliott stutters confusedly, scratching the back of his head, "Yeah. Why?"

"Doesn't look like it," Lucas observes, "Doesn't look like anyone lives here really."

"Yeah, well," Eliott shrugs, tossing his scarf on the vacant bar stool, "It was never meant to be permanent anyway." He places the laptop bag carelessly on his desk, without regard for the items present on it, knocking a pen off it in the process. 

"Ready to go?" Lucas asks, now realizing that he, along with Eliott who had also taken off his coat, had slipped out of their shoes upon entering the apartment, as if they planned to stick around longer than initially planned. 

Eliott, still turned in the direction of his desk as he rummages through one of its drawers, calls out, "What's the rush?" 

 _Oh god_ , Lucas thinks. _This is it_. This is how he'll die.

He would die today at the hands of the most gorgeous man he'd ever met, and the only people who would have the slightest clue were a bunch of strangers on the internet that had warned him copiously to be careful. He'd be on one of those late night true crime shows, the news, everyone at the firm would know, not to mention his friends, his mom-

Lucas's chain of rambling is cut short when the object Eliott extracts is less threatening than what he conjured up in his head during his tirade. Lighter in one hand and Ziploc in the other, Eliott tilts his head at the sofa, beckoning Lucas over, "I'm game if you are."

They settle into the couch, claiming one corner each, Lucas unfastening the buttons on his suit jacket and discarding it first. The settee is softer than Lucas expected, but he suspects it's from prolonged use rather than design.

"Does that thing work?" Lucas inquires, pointing out the switched off music player, vinyl already positioned inside. 

"Not for awhile," Eliott says sheepishly, "I kept it for the aesthetic."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"Hey," Eliott defends, "I've been meaning to get it fixed." 

"Oh yeah? When exactly?"

"For the next time I invite a hot guy from the train over."

Lucas throws the pillow conveniently located beside him, stifling his laugh when Eliott protests.

"I'm kidding!" he exclaims, reaching for his phone and tapping a few times before music starts to hum at a modest volume. Wordlessly, Eliott takes out the joint from its bag, lighting it expertly and taking a long drag before releasing. "So," he says, passing it to Lucas, "Accounting, huh? What's the story behind that?"

"Why does there have to be a story?" Lucas asks, inhaling smoke and willing himself not to cough after his first puff in what seemed like forever.

"Maybe there isn't," Eliott concedes, "But, I feel like there is," responding to Lucas's disbelieving expression with, "Call it a sixth sense."

"I think they call that nosiness." 

Eliott snorts, throwing his hands up in defeat, choosing to accept the joint back versus pushing the subject further.

Lucas fidgets, itching for a drag. He deliberates, not wanting to start a conversation people normally didn't have years into a relationship, let alone during first dates.

Then, he realizes absolutely nothing about this was normal. Using the guidance of strangers to steer through a potential whatever this was, following a guy who he'd known for a day and a half back to his house, coming to terms with how stupid he was being and still not walking away. What's one more mistake in the midst of all of the ones he'd made already?

"You're right," Lucas confesses, running a shaky hand through his hair, "I didn't want to be an accountant. To be honest, I think most accountants don't want to be accountants."

"I wonder how accountants feel about you being their designated spokesperson." Eliott mentions offhandedly, pretending to zip his mouth shut when Lucas shoots him an 'are you serious' look.

"It's-" Lucas begins, "It's complicated."

"Usually is."

"I loved science," Lucas disclosed, fumbling with the loose threads on the pillow lodged beside him and the armrest of the sofa, "Actually, love science, would be more accurate," he continued, mumbling a quiet thanks when Eliott passes him the joint.

"I started my first year of university majoring in biology and aiming for med school. My friend and I, we made a pact, that we'd get through it together. And for awhile, we did. Until- Well, I guess until-"

"Shit happened?" Eliott suggests helpfully.

"Shit happened," Lucas chuckles at the reference to their morning exchange. Overwhelmed at vocalizing what he had kept confined inside his own thoughts for so long, he blurts out, "To be continued." cutting himself off from elaborating further, hoping the implication conveys how much he wishes there will be an opportunity to do so in the future, but simultaneously putting an end to the conversation for now.

"To be continued," Eliott agrees, staring at Lucas intently, gaze lingering on the space below his left eye, "Hold still." He reaches out with a hand to Lucas's cheek, momentarily stroking it, picking out an imperceptible eyelash and holding it up victoriously.

"Wow," Lucas laughs, "Good eye."

"Make a wish!"

"Are you for real?"

"I don't joke about sacred stuff like eyelash wishes," Eliott declares solemnly, "Come on! For me?"

Lucas huffs dramatically, reluctantly closing his eyes and blowing softly at Eliott's awaiting finger.

 _If this is a dream,_ he thinks _, please don't let me wake up._

If Lucas was to evaluate the evening with no bias, objectively, it should have been one of the most boring Monday nights he'd ever experienced.

Except, it's decidedly not.

Hours that feel like minutes speed by in a flurry of jokes, music and random conversation. In time, the discussion dissipates into a jumble of dull murmurs, a shuffle here and there indicating the rearrangment of their bodies along the stiff couch, the music from Eliott's phone ebbing into silence once his playlist runs its course. 

"Want to play something else?" Lucas asks, gesturing at the phone lying barely an arms length away from Eliott.

"Not particularly."

Lucas straightens his spine, propping himself against the back frame structuring the sofa, unconsciously moving closer to Eliott's form, "You don't want to get up at all from here, do you?"

"We can," Eliott offers, matching Lucas's position, his arm now grazing the latter's, "If that's what you want."

"No," Lucas whispers, eyes flickering towards Eliott's mouth briefly, "I'm staying here."

"Good," Eliott murmurs quietly, "Me too."

The setting is electric. If Lucas inches a little bit forward, their lips would touch. He can feel Eliott's breath intermingling with his own, smoke, mint, and something so inherently Eliott that Lucas goes heady, brain malfunctioning in a way that he can't completely blame on the joint the pair had shared, laying forgotten in the makeshift petri dish between them. 

Lucas wonders what the forum users would say if they could see him now. He's pretty sure he's breaking all the unspoken first date rules in establishment. It's been awhile since his last relationship, but a small part of his brain is still aware that this was not smart.

But, it's the irrational majority that wins out, propelling him to lean forward, rules and expectations be damned. 

So, he does.

Only, his mouth collides with cool air instead of soft lips, Eliott briskly turning his head away from Lucas, checking the phone laying on the cushion next to him.

"It's getting late." 

Lucas examines his own watch, internally freaking out over the time. He would barely manage four hours of sleep at this rate, even if he left right away.

"I should go," Lucas says, rising up from the couch, "Early start and all."

Still reeling from Eliott's blatant rebuke, Lucas waves off his offer of calling an Uber, opting to put his overpaid for transit pass to use and take the next bus travelling in the direction of his building instead. Draping his discarded suit jacket across crossed arms, he treads carefully towards the door, slightly woozy from the aftereffects of the weed. Stumbling into his shoes, he's stopped from leaving by Eliott's firm, yet gentle grip on his upper arm.

"Are you sure I can't get you a ride home?"

"Don't worry about it," Lucas waves him off, "I've gotten home from worse parties more 'wasted' than this," he says, air quoting the word wasted exaggeratedly, "It's just- it's been awhile," adding on jokingly, "Lucas five years ago would be so disappointed."

"Alright." Eliott relents eventually, letting go.

"I'll see you tomorrow? Or later today, I guess," Lucas asks, "If you're not planning on disappearing again."

"See you later today," Eliott confirms, beaming softly, "Lucas."

Eliott watches Lucas as he waits for the elevator, the latter choosing to stick with the option facilitating his safe arrival to the lobby least likely to give him a concussion in case he lost his balance. And, when Lucas looks up at Eliott's balcony, unknowingly and on purpose all at once, Eliott's leaning against the railing, waving farewell.

 _Maybe cool it with the pining until you know his full name_.

"Eliott!" he yells towards where Eliott is looking down at him, "What's your last name?"

Eliott looks at him curiously, or at least it looks curious from where Lucas stands. "Demaury!" he shouts, hand cupped around his mouth. 

No turning back now.

Fuck.

* * *

 

Lucas is slumped against the bus window, trying his best to avoid the drunk man getting dangerously close to falling asleep on his shoulder, when he considers texting Yann, even Basille or Arthur for help. Advice, words of encouragement, something, anything. The last time he remembers feeling this shitty about a relationship (or lack thereof) was when he was still trying to convince himself he liked girls back in lycée.

He pulls out his phone, tempted by Yann's contact shortcut on his home screen momentarily. His finger hovers above the icon, eventually ditching it in favour of opening the forum he had been frequenting enough to download the official app for, signs in, and submits another post.

 

 

[+1 -0] posted by imnotinlove a few seconds ago   
_why won't he make a move?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think this goes without saying, don't do what lucas does and blindly trust hot strangers you meet on the train  
> anyone notice the PH parallel with eliott's empty apartment? i promise it's the only similarity and there is significance for later on in the story lol  
> i make a special appearance in this chapter as the drunk man on the bus on a monday with lucas, already done with the upcoming week's shit hahah
> 
> lots of love for everyone reading!! have a good weekend


End file.
